i was thinking about doing all this stuff as two posts, right, but as it features my (considerably) better half i thought i would do what she does best with pizza with it all and just go right ahead and consolidate it into one mega sized post. or medium sized. if this upsets you, well that's fine, you can read a bit now and then a bit more later. Bono didn't write The Joshua Tree all in one go, look you see, so what's good for him is probably OK for you.
to start off with, then, i got very excited indeed last night with one of the repeats of Bullseye. well, yeah, sure, i get excited by every repeat of it, except for them episodes they show when it is not Jim Bowen hosting it but someone else who is not Jim Bowen. here, have a look at who the guest dart player was throwing for charity and that.
oh yes, that is indeed Phil Taylor, or Francis as Jim Bowen decided to call him. this was, as point of fact, his first ever appearance on Bullseye. quite an honour for him, and in many respects one can understand why he always looks so grumpy these days. this was, as it is for every player, the zenith, perhaps even the zeitgeist, of his career, after all, and he has spent the last 30 or so years trying to rekindle this magic.
before all that excitement, as would be usual for a weekend i took a stroll around the village and went to see Gran & Gramps. this visit was a good one, for they always are, and was in particular made all the better by us getting to watch a steamroller belt on down the road past us. well, when i say belt, it went about as fast as a steamroller can.
it was, as i believe you can see and have no doubt that you can understand, something of a conversation stopping event, as we all did indeed stop to watch as it went by. a beauty of a machine it is, and it might not quite have been going as all fast as i may have suggested earlier. the cars behind it certainly wished that it was going somewhat faster, looking at the faces of the drivers.
what did i have for lunch yesterday? well, i can show you, if you like. i appreciate that this is an extremely 'twitter' thing for me to be doing, but perhaps some of the younger kids who like all of this 'twitter' stuff will be interested and pleased to see this.
yes, indeed it is curried beans, off of Heinz no less, on toast. i just fancied them.
this 'twitter' thing exists, as far as i can work out, for some minor things to have a conduit, or if you like forum, for expression. mostly it seems to be there for Stephen Fry to tell the world how amazing being gay is and how everyone should be. he may well have a point, actually, as he seems to get an awful lot of money from doing it and gets to go to the cricket, which is boss. also this 'twitter' exists for people to show off what they are eating, and to express how not racist they presently are, except of course for those people and things that it is presently perfectly socially acceptable to be racist about. i think, to bring this to some sort of circular event, it is in fact Stephen Fry who gets to decide what is and is not racist.
you would imagine that Phil 'The Power' Taylor has no time at all for all this 'twitter' nonsense; it is something that i can only imagine would distracting him from his arrows, that he is good at. perhaps the Taylor of Phil is on twitter, though, i don't know. if he is then perhaps i should "twat" this picture at him as some sort of message thing.
oh yes, by the way, you are seeing right. he does indeed have one of them "bum fluff" moustaches on the go; one of them which is more commonly referred to as a wanker's tache in certain social circles. that's not an abusive term as such and should not be read as one; that's just the peculiar name which this certain style, or if you like brand, of moustache has. he does not, as far as i can recall, wear a moustache of any description these days, so maybe this is all a little pointless.
these people, known also for their ponytailed hair, power ties, shiny pants and in fairness impressive proclivity for cocaine, keep having all these dead good ideas which, like, totes impress we, the people, and make us buy stuff. they then go off and have awards for themselves in which they celebrate how good they are at doing all of this, with one or two of them, if they are lucky, scoring appearances on provincial radio stations to say what they think does and does not count as a good advert.
this is a packet of cigarettes which has been blessed by a, like, totes brilliant idea by a ponytailed, shiny pant wearing wanker's tache displaying advertising genius. they have, as you may well be able to work out by yourself, gone right ahead and put one cigarette in this packet of Chesterfield upside down. the text with it reads "upside down or the right way up" and encourages one to "think Chesterfield".
i do not understand the point of this exercise. i would imagine that whoever has purchased a packet is already thinking Chesterfield, so who is it aimed at? also, most smokers would get quite cross at this. i know for a fact one ardent Chesterfield enthusiast, DDK, would happily punch in the face anyone that did this to his packet of cigarettes, and i would be there helping him.
snow might be coming our way. a wise gent, sadly no longer with us, spoke of us always getting snow within a couple of weeks of American being touched by it. as various news reports have shown, aspects of America have indeed been touched with snow lately.
i thought it prudent, then, to get some items for the car should some snow hit. in the last week or so, for certain, there has been a familiar icy feeling to the rain which has touched me upon the face region as i have walked around about my business.
well, when i say prudent, i mean of course that my (considerably) better half wanted some stuffs for cleaning the car window and that with, and i spotted a snow shovel, or if you like shovel of the snow, going for a pretty reasonable price.
i don't particularly expect her to get snowed in somewhere and and actually need to use this shovel, but yes, i am indeed highly amused by the idea of her ploughing through the snow and digging herself out of some sort of avalanche.
speaking of my (considerably) better half and amusement - two factors in this universe that are not always quite so distant as you would think - my reporting on some chap doing a scratchcard awakened a burning desire in her; one that i was expected to extinguish as such. yes, indeed i was instructed to purchase her some of her very own "scratchies" so that she may scratch her way to fortune and glory. well, fortune i suppose, for i do not think she's too fussed on the glory element.
did she in fact win an awful lot of coins of money off of these "scratchies"? well, that would be telling, but also that i am writing this instead of being out spending coins of money might give you some sort of appropriate clue, really. the important thing, i guess, is that it is further evidence that she has come to embrace the English way of doing things by having a passion for "scratchies".
i may well purchase a further "scratchie" and send it to Spiros. i have one or two items here to send him during the course of the week, and intend to get some more to send him too. not that he has sent me anything recently, but this is understandable. his days these days seem to involve pretending to be Australian and interfering with some sort of Norwegian house boy that has been entrusted to him.
going back somewhat to power ties and ponytail hair, one is surely never at an end of surprise when it comes to discovering exciting new marketing opportunities. like, for instance, combining much loved, in a very real sense classical children's stories with toilet paper.
The Snowman is a story which is, of course, much loved due to that Aled Jones fellow doing all them songs and that about it on a film version which had some fairly rudimentary animation in it. nothing at all that i recall from the film, or the career of Aled Jones, ever said to me "combine this with toilet paper for the win", but someone did, and so i bought it as a gesture of appreciation about how much cleverer they are than me.
yeah, i would agree that this is probably quite enough for one post, so it is time to leave you with one final picture of Phil Taylor on Bullseye.
that is indeed the hand of Jim Bowen reaching out to shake. wow, man. touched by the hand of Jim Bowen. that's a career high of note, that is, and one that i imagine he appreciates greatly when he thinks back to it. even if the score he got was total rubbish.
righty-ho, more as and when that it happens, and of course as and when i get the chance to write about it all here.
hope you've all had a most splendid weekend!
be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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